


Nox

by miss_grey



Series: Willowsbend [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel and Cats, Cats, Gen, Witch Castiel, witch!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:46:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Nox, or how the cat found Castiel and refused to leave him alone.</p>
<p>Part of the Willowsbend 'Verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nox

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of easy going fluff here for you all after the angst fest that was Jamais Vu.

 

 

 

            Castiel had never wanted a familiar, never needed one.  In fact, he preferred to keep animals (and all other living creatures) _out_ of his spellwork.  His mother, Naomi, had chastised him throughout his teenage years, calling his refusal an act of teenage rebellion.  A phase that would pass as he grew older and saw the wisdom of keeping a familiar.  Castiel vividly remembered telling her that if a witch was good enough, could concentrate enough, there was no need for a familiar.  Or anyone else.  Naomi had snarked back “Fine, be alone for the rest of your life, Castiel.  See where that gets you.”  It probably should have hurt more than it did, but by his teenage years, Castiel had grown all too familiar with his mother’s tempers and insults.  And she was considered to be one of the more reasonable in a long line of Novak witches.

            Everyone else in his family’s coven had a familiar.  His mother had her own cat, of course—a proud Siamese that had always ignored Castiel except for when it swished its tail in disdain of his presence.  Gabriel owned a little brown owl that hooted at all hours of the night.  Michael owned a Husky.  Anna owned a garden snake that twined around her arms, or over her shoulders, or in between her fingers when she did her magic.  His cousins all had their own, too. 

            Most of them looked at Castiel with pity, figuring that maybe he wasn’t powerful enough to attract a familiar, or that he was just _broken._ Castiel ignored them all and continued with his own study.  He loved his magic, and he _knew,_ deep within himself, that he was perfect just as he was.  He didn’t need another being to fix him, or to complete him.  “My magic belongs to me,” he used to murmur to himself as he wove complex spells in the comfort of his own room, or when he brewed elixirs for his mother’s shop. 

            It wasn’t just that Castiel didn’t _want_ a familiar, it was more than that.  It was a hitch in his own code of ethics.  Animals shouldn’t get mixed up in his magic, and he definitely shouldn’t use them for his own ends.  That wasn’t how the world was supposed to work, and that’s not what animals, or familiars, were for.  His family seemed to have forgotten along the way that familiars were supposed to be partners, cherished companions, rather than simply a means to an end.  Well, perhaps Castiel was being too harsh in that assessment; after all, how did he know that his family didn’t love their familiars?  That the spellwork wasn’t an equal burden to them all?

            Regardless, by the age of 17, Castiel had decided that he would never have a familiar, and he meant to hold to that.

 

* * *

 

 

 

            The first time he saw the sleek black cat, it was only a glimpse out of the corner of his eye on his walk home from school.  A dart of black in his peripheral, there and gone.  Castiel entered his mother’s shop, stepped over her wards, and allowed the incident to slip easily from his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

            The next time, the cat was not so easy to ignore.  It followed Castiel to school, and sat outside the gates that surrounded the complex of brick buildings, so that whenever Castiel got bored in class and happened to glance out the window, he found the cat waiting patiently out on the sidewalk.  A wave of trepidation filled Castiel, and when school ended, he took a different exit in an attempt to avoid his strange new stalker.  However, he wasn’t clever enough to dodge the cat, and it found him less than a block away.  It slinked around the corner ahead of him, and sat back on its haunches, eying him carefully.  Castiel pulled up short, his hands going to the straps of his backpack at his shoulders.  “What do you want?”  Castiel asked in a show of forced calm.

            The cat simply looked at him for a moment, then twitched its tail.

            “Well?”  Castiel huffed, “What is it?”

            The cat gave no indication of having heard, or having cared.

            “Well, out of my way, then.  Go home.”  Castiel marched around the cat, even veering into the street to do so, though a shiver went up his spine when the cat turned its head and watched him go with large green eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

            A month later, Castiel woke in the night to find the cat perched on his windowsill, watching him sleep.  “Alright,” Castiel whispered, his hands shaking as he dragged the blankets away and stood.  “This has gone far enough.  You can’t be here.  That’s just creepy.”  He shooed the cat out the window, then shut it, and locked it for good measure.

 

* * *

 

 

            The cat followed him to school every day, and home every evening.  Most nights, if Castiel woke, he found the cat lounging in the branches of the tree just outside of his bedroom.  “What do you even want?”  Castiel often whispered, but he never got an answer.

 

* * *

 

 

            One day, on his way to the shop, the cat found his way to Castiel’s side, and kept him company for the walk.  This had been happening for a couple months now.  “You know, you’re wasting your time,” Castiel informed the stubborn little furball.  “I don’t want a familiar.  And if you’re…something else, well… you’re still wasting your time.  I’m not interested.”

            The cat was silent, but it veered close, and rubbed its sinuous body along Castiel’s pants leg. 

            Castiel stared down at it, his lips pressed together in consternation.  “Where did you even come from, anyway?  Don’t you get hungry, or cold sitting outside my window all night?  Go home!”  He scuffed his shoe at the cat, but it dodged nimbly out of the way.  “Go on, shoo!  Go home!”

            When Castiel reached his own home, later that night, he found the cat sitting on the porch waiting for him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Castiel didn’t _give in,_ exactly, and he never changed his mind about familiars and magic, but after months of dodging an insistent ball of black fur, Castiel realized he was fighting a losing battle.  “This doesn’t mean anything,” he said to the cat, late one night in the middle of November, when the wind howled mournfully outside.  He’d popped the window open just long enough for the cat to leap inside, before shutting it tightly once more.  “I’m still not interested.”  He said.  Less than ten minutes later, Castiel was asleep again, tucked in his bed, and the cat was curled up next to him in the blankets.

            Castiel woke to the sound of purring.

 

* * *

 

 

            A week after that, Castiel realized that despite his best efforts, he’d well and truly lost the war.  It was just _nice_ to be greeted by someone who was always happy to see him, and to curl up with another warm body in the middle of the night.  And it was nice to pet the soft fur, while he was busy reading one of his many school or spell books. 

            So Castiel did what he figured it was practical to do: he bought a bag of cat food and smuggled some of his mother’s dishes into his room for the food and water.

            And as the cat butted its head against Castiel’s hand that night, purring softly in the warmth of their room, Castiel smiled down fondly, scratched him behind his ears, and gave him a name.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Remember, comments are love! :)


End file.
